Showing results by author "John Holt" in All Categories

Across the bottom of the screen the ticker tape announced in large black letters 'Governor Reynolds Murdered'. Apparently his body had been discovered earlier that morning, lying in his garage. He had been shot twice. One shot to the upper chest, the other hitting his shoulder. 'Police believe that the weapon used was a 38 revolver,' the reporter said. Kendall froze. Anthony Shaw had also been killed by a 38 calibre bullet. Kendall was not quite sure of what it all meant. What connection was there between Anthony Shaw, and the State Governor, and the business mogul, Ian Duncan. And what about Senator Mackenzie? Where did he fit in? And who or what was Latimer?

The Marinski Affair began as a dull, mundane case involving a missing husband. Okay, so he was a rich missing husband, but he was nonetheless, still only a missing husband. The case soon developed into one involving robbery, kidnapping, blackmail, and murder. But was there really a kidnapping? All is not as it seems. Tom Kendall, private detective, had the task of solving the mystery. He was usually pretty good at solving puzzles, but this one was different, somehow. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any of the pieces. It was just that none of the pieces seemed to fit together.

Tom Kendall, a down-to-earth private detective, is asked to investigate the death of a young newspaper reporter. The evidence shows quite clearly that it was an accident: a simple, dreadful accident. That is the finding of the coroner and the local police. Furthermore, there were two witnesses. They saw the whole thing. But was it an accident, or was it something more sinister? Against a backdrop of a viral epidemic slowly spreading from Central America, a simple case soon places Kendall up against one of the largest drug companies in the country.

On the night of April 14th 1865, President Abraham Lincoln attended a performance at the Ford Theatre in Washington. A single shot fired by John Wilkes Booth hit the President in the back of the head. He slumped to the floor, and died a few hours later without recovering consciousness. Was Booth a lone assassin? Or was he part of a wider conspiracy?

I'm not a gambling man. I mean, life's one big gamble, ain't it? The odds are stacked against you; you just can't win. You know there are some people who will do anything to make sure that they win, even if it means eliminating anyone or anything that stands in their way. They only bet on a sure thing...a Dead Certainty.

The name's Daniels, Jack Daniels - just like the whiskey you know. I'm a private detective. And I can't help butting my nose into other people's business. It's what I do. You get used to it. It becomes a way of life almost. After a while it comes natural to you, automatic, like breathing, or eating, although not quite as enjoyable. It's a habit that I just can't break. I just can't help it. But sometimes it can lead you into trouble....

Have you ever noticed that things aren't always what they seem? Life will always throw you a curved ball when you least expect it. We see only what we expect to see, and sometimes we could be in for a big surprise. And I sure got a surprise I can tell you, in spades. A surprise that lead to blackmail and murder. That's when I really got...Trouble in Mind.

Danny's World is the story of Danny, an amazing handicapped boy who won the fight to overcome the stigma of being a disabled or handicapped child following the Great Depression. The power of superstition and fear held sway over the lives of families with special children until they met Danny.

No soy un hombre de juego. Quiero decir que la gran apuesta de la vida no es así. Las probabilidades están apiladas contra ti, simplemente no puedes ganar. Pero usted sabe que hay algunas personas que harán cualquier cosa para asegurarse de que ganan, incluso si eso significa eliminar a cualquier persona o cualquier cosa que se interponga en su camino. Sólo apuestan por una cosa segura... Una Muerte Cierta.

Kendall podía ver la pantalla de televisión. Había una fotografía del gobernador Frank Reynolds. En la parte inferior de la pantalla, el teletipo anunciaba en grandes letras negras «Gobernador Reynolds asesinado».

"Whittaker distribuyó los tragos y bebió el suyo.–En fin, al parecer tiene dificultades− continuó. –Y una muy grave. −¿Dificultades? −repitió Kendall Whittaker lanzó un suspiro. – Sí, ya sabe−respondió. –Problemas. Kendall asintió. −¡Oh, problemas! Ya entiendo.−exclamó. −¿Y de qué clase de problemas estamos hablando? Whittaker tomó otro sorbo. –Bueno me temo que es un caso de homicidio. −¿Homicidio? −repitió Mollie. Whittaker no hizo más que asentir con la cabeza. Otro homicidio, pensó Kendall. Justo lo que necesito. –Sólo deténgase allí por un momento y vuelva a empezar, ¿Puede? −le sugirió."

De naam is Daniels, Jack Daniels - net als de whisky die je kent. Ik ben een privédetective. En ik kan het niet helpen mijn neus in andermans zaken te steken. Het is wat ik doe. Je went er aan. Het wordt bijna een manier van leven. Na een tijdje gaat het natuurlijk voor je, automatisch, zoals ademen of eten, hoewel niet zo plezierig. Het is een gewoonte die ik gewoon niet kan doorbreken. Ik kan het gewoon niet helpen.

It was that door, that solitary door. The door was somehow connected to an event that had occurred one hundred years ago. Somehow it was a portal to another time and place. And that made it worrying, frightening even. Was it even possible for someone, anyone, to exist in two time periods at the same time?